


Nightmares

by lukeloops



Series: Kuroshitsuji standalones [3]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Injections TW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 03:23:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5274695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lukeloops/pseuds/lukeloops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the middle of the night, and it's happening again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

_Just one more injection._

No.

 

_One more is all you’ll need. One in each arm._

No.

 

_It’s resisting again._

_-Well tie it down then! Make sure its wrists are clear though, the veins in its elbows have collapsed._

 

No. 

“No!” He screams as his eyes fly open. Gasping for breath, Finnian becomes aware of his hands balled into trembling fists around the hem of his blanket, his hair plastered to his neck and forehead with his cold sweat.

He closes his eyes again, counting slowly to ten. He’s sitting up in bed, in his room at Phantomhive Manor. He is home. He is safe.  
Finnian reaches out for the box of matches on his nightstand and fumbles for a moment before successfully lighting the candle. Much of the room is still dark, but he can see enough to know that everything is normal.

There’s no hope of getting back to sleep for a while though. He slides his legs out from under the blanket, pressing bare toes to bare floorboards.

 

A few weeks after their arrival at Phantomhive Manor, Mey-Rin decided it was safe to leave her door unlocked at night- which after all would allow a quicker exit. Shortly afterwards, she awoke to find that Finnian had crawled into bed with her during the night.

Her light is on now, and she knows it’s him because of his signature knock, so she calls quietly, “Come in.”

The gardener is probably seventeen or eighteen, four years younger than her, but he looks closer to their Master’s age as he rubs his eyes with the hand not clutching the candle and whispers, “I had a nightmare again.”

Mey-Rin looks up from her book, and gestures for him to come over. He sets down the candle and climbs onto the bed next to her.  
“What was it about this time?” She asks, pulling the covers over his legs.

“The injections again. Pinning me down. Always saying this was the last time.”

“Look at your arms.” Mey-Rin tells him softly.

“Huh?”   
But he pulls up one sleeve and then the other, and can see that the insides of his wrists and elbows are perfectly ordinary. No bruises, no pock-marks or sores. A few scars that only show up when he builds up a tan over long summer days in the garden.

“See?”

“Yeah.” He leans his head on her shoulder for a minute, then asks, “Why are you awake?”

Mey-Rin closes her book with a sigh, setting it aside. “I couldn’t sleep, I was thinking about…” she trails off.

“About what?” Finny prompts.

Her lips barely move. “The first time I killed a man.”

Wordlessly, he wraps his arms around her. When they pull apart, a single tear is rolling down her cheek.

“I can do it without even blinking now,” she whispers. “But I still remember the way he screamed.”

Finny reaches to brush away the tear with his thumb, but his elbow thumps the wall, which shakes under his freakish strength.

They freeze.

Footsteps. Then a knock at the door.  
Neither answer. They just clutch each other.

“It’s me.” Bard pushes open the door, squinting sleepily at the two younger servants.

“It isn’t what it looks like-“ begins Mey-Rin in a quaking voice, but falters to a halt as the chef sits down on the end of the bed with a sigh.

“It’s alright.” He says gruffly. “I get them too y’know.”

He smiles weakly. Mey-Rin and Finny return it.

They are home.


End file.
